That night, Ming Rao tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep no matter what. In frustration, he grabbed the extra pillow beside him and squeezed it, wishing he could tear out all the down feathers inside.
By the time morning came, his head ached as if he hadn’t slept a wink. He opened the door groggily and saw Yan Yuchuan sitting on the sofa.
He had already fallen asleep, his head drooping limply, the laptop on his knees still open.
A man of his size, curled up on the sofa like that didn’t he worry about his neck? Ming Rao softened his footsteps, carefully moved the computer aside, and was just about to adjust him into a more comfortable position when Yan Yuchuan slowly opened his eyes.
He glanced at the time, his voice softer than usual from sleepiness: “Why are you up so early?”
“Isn’t there another room? Who told you to sleep on the sofa?” Ming Rao said with a stern face. “Trying to play the pitiful card, are you?”
Yan Yuchuan rubbed his eyes and slipped back into his usual half-smiling expression: “So, do you feel sorry for me?”
Ming Rao looked away and said crossly, “I think you brought it on yourself.”
Yan Yuchuan let out a laugh, then explained: “No, the signal in the room was bad.”
He got up from the sofa and headed into the kitchen. Soon, milk and fried eggs appeared on the table one after another. With a “ding,” the toast came out golden brown a simple breakfast, done just like that.
Yan Yuchuan took two jars of sauce from the fridge, checked the expiration dates to make sure they were still good, brought them to the table, and sat down across from Ming Rao.
“Yan Yuchuan,” Ming Rao said, his hands hanging at his sides, no intention of eating. He bit his lip and continued, “I’ve thought carefully about yesterday.”
Yan Yuchuan’s brow furrowed slightly, a sense of foreboding creeping up on him. He picked up a slice of toast from the plate and asked casually, “Do you want mayo or peanut”
“You don’t need to sleep with me anymore.”
The golden, crispy toast was evenly spread with brown sauce on one side, the burnt edges trimmed off, and placed on Ming Rao’s plate.
Yan Yuchuan said, “Try the peanut butter first.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
Yan Yuchuan picked up another slice of toast, spreading mayo on it while keeping his eyes lowered: “There’s no need for that.”
“I’ve thought it over. When I don’t react, it makes you uncomfortable, and this way things aren’t good for either of us. From now on, just accompanying me on weekends is enough. You’re busy during the week anyway, and I don’t want to take up more of your rest time.”
Every time he slept with Yan Yuchuan, Ming Rao felt like something important inside him was being drained away bit by bit, making him gradually less like himself. He admitted he had overreacted to what happened last night, but it had made him notice signs of losing control.
If he continued this unhealthy physical relationship with Yan Yuchuan, he feared that one day he might do something even more unreasonable.
Ming Rao’s tone sounded like an ultimatum, as if he was determined to put an end to this matter, which made it hard for Yan Yuchuan to pretend nothing was wrong, even though all he wanted right now was to have a proper breakfast with Ming Rao.
To be honest, he regretted it deeply. If he had known Ming Rao would be so resistant, he would have stayed in his lane and not overstepped.
“Then let’s go back to how it was before,” Yan Yuchuan said, his temples throbbing as he raised a hand to rub them. “I won’t do anything you don’t like anymore. I’ll follow your rules.”
He took another sip of milk and paused. “But what needs to be done still has to be done.”
Ming Rao didn’t understand what “what needs to be done still has to be done” meant it sounded like they had some KPI to hit. He continued: “One more thing. Today, Uncle Zhang is coming to pick up the RV in the garage. My brother and the others are going on a trip in a few days and need it. You can go back with him saves him from having to come pick you up again later. I know you’ve been busy these past few days, and your colleagues have been messaging you nonstop. I feel bad keeping you here like this. For the remaining days, I’ll be fine on my own. Go take care of your work the project matters more.”
Just then, red light suddenly streamed through the glass window, spilling onto the wooden table. Both of them turned to look outside at the same time.
Dawn Bay was most famous for its ever-changing sunrise scenes. The sky was a tapestry of interwoven colors, like a giant palette, shifting into a completely different vista in the blink of an eye a breathtaking sight that made one almost forget the passage of time.
“Are you trying to send me away?” A low voice broke the silence, as light as the morning mist.
“No,” Ming Rao turned at the sound and found Yan Yuchuan looking at him. His gaze was calm as still water, yet carried an inexplicable penetrating force that made Ming Rao’s heart skip a beat. He couldn’t help but add, “I’m just afraid of delaying your project. I know you’ve been squeezing out time these past few days weren’t you still working on your computer late last night?”
“…”
Yan Yuchuan looked back out the window. The sky, which had just been a rosy red, had now been dyed a deep purple.
“Fine,” Yan Yuchuan said, his voice as light as a sigh. “Eat while it’s hot.”
After breakfast, Yan Yuchuan washed the dishes and then went to pack his things. He didn’t have much to begin with just a few changes of clothes and his laptop. After packing, he sat in silence, organizing his experimental data on the computer.
Uncle Zhang’s car arrived quickly; clearly Ming Rao had arranged it the night before. Yan Yuchuan picked up his luggage and got straight into the car without saying goodbye to Ming Rao after all, Ming Rao hadn’t come out to see him off either.
Along the way, Uncle Zhang made small talk, asking how his project was progressing and complaining about his own kid not taking school seriously, only playing games and being hard to discipline.
Yan Yuchuan responded absentmindedly. After they exited the highway, he asked Uncle Zhang if he could roll down the window he felt suffocated, like he couldn’t breathe.
When the window opened and the autumn wind hit his face, carrying dust, he realized it had nothing to do with the window being open or closed.
His chest still felt tight, his heart as if someone had seized it hard. He bent forward, pressing his thighs against his chest just to give his heart somewhere to rest.
Uncle Zhang heard his heavy breathing and asked with concern what was wrong. He only said he felt a bit carsick. Later, perhaps sensing his bad mood, Uncle Zhang stopped forcing conversation.
The air in the car became unusually quiet, which only made him think of the trip he and Ming Rao had taken here just the two of them in the car, him driving, Ming Rao in the passenger seat, playing the music he loved and humming along.
Yan Yuchuan inexplicably felt a sense of abandonment. It was absurd after all, the only person in the world entitled to abandon him had already left him at the dock when he was seven.
When they arrived at Platinum Harbor, Uncle Zhang called out to him before they parted, handing him several beautifully wrapped boxes. He glanced at them a few boxes of seashell-shaped chocolates, and a few boxes of local seafood products.
He was about to decline when Uncle Zhang quickly said, “These were all bought by Young Master Rao specially. He thought you left in a hurry this time and didn’t have time to shop, so he wanted you to bring them as gifts for your project team. It’s all from Rao’s heart you should take them, otherwise I won’t be able to report back to him.”
He’d been on vacation these past few days, and his project colleagues had been running the data for him. It wouldn’t be appropriate to return empty-handed. After thinking it over, he accepted the gifts, took a photo, and sent it to Ming Rao to thank him.
He waited three days and still no reply came, so he stopped indulging himself by repeatedly opening the chat to check. He was in the critical phase of his research now and couldn’t afford to be distracted by trivial matters. He pulled himself together and threw himself back into his busy work.
It wasn’t until a week later that Ming Rao contacted him again.
With the stipend from the innovation camp, Yan Yuchuan only needed one job to cover his living expenses. During this period when Ming Rao didn’t come looking for him, he found himself unaccustomed to the free time especially at night, when his mind tended to wander. So he picked up a part-time job at an amusement park to burn off his excess energy.
Today was equipment maintenance day, and the park closed at seven. Yan Yuchuan was wearing a hard hat, checking bearings with a few colleagues, when Ming Rao’s call came through.
He couldn’t free his hands, so he tilted his head and shrugged, managing to wedge the phone between his ear and shoulder.
Ming Rao heard the noisy chatter on his end and hesitated, unwilling to continue.
Yan Yuchuan set down his wrench and screwdriver, found a quiet corner, and said, “Okay, no one’s around now. Go ahead, what’s up?”
“There’s a Red Cross charity ball next week.” Ming Rao’s voice came through the receiver, a bit muffled.
Yan Yuchuan was silent for a moment, then asked, “Is it the one hosted by the Hibiscus Club?”
“You know about it?”
Yan Yuchuan hummed in acknowledgment, then asked, “What about it?”
“Nothing,” came the muddled voice on the other end. “Just that I can’t find anyone to go with me.”
The Hibiscus Club’s name was thunderous their annual charity ball with the Platinum Harbor Red Cross at the end of October was known to everyone. It had long since transcended the realm of charitable fundraising, becoming a social arena for the local upper class to network and mingle.
Yan Yuchuan shoved one hand into his pocket, lazily kicking a small pebble away, privately mulling over what Ming Rao was really getting at. He said lightly, “That ball has a pretty high bar, doesn’t it? Regular people can’t get in.”
There was a pause on the other end. “I guess so.”
Then silence again.
The late-autumn night wind was chilly, seeping through his collar and making him shiver. Yan Yuchuan pulled the drawstrings of his hoodie tight, wrapping them around his bare neck, pacing back and forth as he said, “Who did you used to go with?”
“A girl I grew up with a family friend, basically. Whenever there was a ball like this, I’d go with her.”
“She can’t make it this time?”
“She can, actually. She came to me this time too, it’s just that.” There was a gulp on the other end, followed by a slightly trembling exhale.
“Just what?”
“I feel like I.” Ming Rao coughed, then, as if making up his mind, lowered and steadied his voice. “I don’t want to go with a girl anymore.”
Yan Yuchuan stopped pacing and let out a dazed “Oh.” Then he realized that reaction was too cold, but he couldn’t think of anything more fitting either. Fortunately, Ming Rao continued in time: “Anyway, it’s just about making a statement.”
“Yeah,” Yan Yuchuan said. “That’s good.”
“I just wanted to ask if you could” The sentence cut off mid-way, replaced by a long intake of breath. “introduce me to a few guys who are out, who could be my dance partner.”
Yan Yuchuan felt a string in his heart pulled taut, then slowly released, sending a soft, powerless aftershock through him neither painful nor itchy, stuck somewhere between rising and falling.
He said softly, “I don’t know anyone.”
“Alright, figured you wouldn’t,” Ming Rao’s voice turned light and brisk. “Then never mind, I won’t bother you. I’ll go find someone myself.”
“Wait” Yan Yuchuan couldn’t help shouting out loud. He moved the phone screen in front of his eyes, saw the call timer still counting one second, two seconds and breathed a sigh of relief. “Where are you going to find guys who are out?”
“I don’t know. Like, uh… a gay dating app?” His voice grew more uncertain the further he went.
Yan Yuchuan asked leisurely, “Which app?”
“…”
Yan Yuchuan pictured Ming Rao’s current appearance head hanging low, scratching his hair in frustration and couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
The other end of the line instantly bristled: “What are you laughing at? Do you think I don’t know any apps? I’ll go look it up right now, believe me.”
“I’m not laughing,” Yan Yuchuan said, but laughed even more unrestrainedly.
“Hmph, I found one. This app’s called ‘Fated for Three Lives’ sounds reliable just from the name. Maybe I’ll find not just a dance partner, but a boyfriend too.”
“Ming Rao,” Yan Yuchuan’s smile faded, his voice turning serious. “Have you ever considered me?”
After a moment of silence, the voice on the other end spoke: “Consider you for what? You’re not a guy who’s out uh, I mean, you don’t like guys.”
“But I am a guy, right?” Yan Yuchuan said. “Aren’t you trying to make a statement?”
“But if you go, you’d have to dance with me. Wouldn’t you feel a little.” His voice grew weaker and weaker, almost inaudible.
“A little what?”
“A little gay.”
Yan Yuchuan pondered for a moment, then said, “We’ve done gayer things than that before.”
“Oh, true.” It was reasonable and irrefutable, so Ming Rao had to accept the proposal. “Then send me your measurements, and I’ll make you a suit.”
“No need. The shop on the back street of campus rents them out thirty yuan a night.”
After a brief pause, a torrent of curses came blasting through the receiver. Yan Yuchuan, wearing a mischievous grin, held the phone away from his ear as a few frantic accusations “Are you doing this on purpose?” “You just want to embarrass me, don’t you?” rushed into his ears along with the sharp autumn wind.
Yet he felt it wasn’t so cold anymore.